Light Put Out
by TheIncredibleAvocado
Summary: Erik reminisces on when he became Magnus, and how he lost Anya and Magda on the same night. Rated T for some mild language and dark themes.


**A/N: Hi! This is my first completed fanfic. Please review. This is probably obvious, but when I refer to Mags as Erik, it's present day, and when he's called Max it's in the past. Enjoy!**

It all started with the bloody crowbar. No… it all started with Hitler. Erik can't think of insults that properly captured what the bastard was. A small voice in the back of his mind makes him wince. Erik was just like the bastard at one point.

Erik hasn't visited his eldest child for nearly fifty years. He thinks of her every day; he thinks of when she was small and her amber eyes bright and her cheeks rosy. When he was around Anya, he forgot what happened at Auschwitz.

He recalls how, the night after she was born, he stopped having the nightmares.

The night Max lost everything for the second time was when the nightmares returned, and this time he saw the burnt husk of his child along with the glassy-eyed corpses that used to be his father and uncle and mother and sister. And the hundreds of nameless bodies he was forced to dispose of.

Erik shoves his hands in his pockets after handing his ticket to the teenaged clerk and boarding the train. He remembers when he helped build the track…

He sits back in his seat and glances out the window. Things are very different than they were when Magda and he first settled in that small village.

Anya's first steps were across the kitchen of the small house. She was sitting on the floor, playing with a ragged doll – the only toy she had, when she looked with some consternation across the room. Max was sipping some coffee and skimming his engineering textbook. Magda was folding the clothes in the other room – the only other room in their apartment.

The child set her doll down and carefully stood up. Max nearly dropped his mug and called for Magda.

"What's happened?" his wife rushed in, then halted when she saw her first born toddling across the room. Anya wobbled, but before she could fall Max scooped her up and swung her around. She giggled and Magda smiled.

It was at that moment when Max decided to forget what happened. That hell was behind him. Anya proved that there was hope. Max would get his engineering degree and they would move somewhere nicer, and Anya would grow up without knowing the pain and suffering her parents endured for so long.

But education wasn't free. Magda and Max split the almost impossible load of work between each other.

Magda would care for Anya, keep the house in order, purchase groceries, handle the finances, and cook and clean for other families for some extra money on the side.

Max would work as many odd jobs as possible on top of studying at university. Sometimes, when Max slipped in late at night, he would see Magda fast asleep, sprawled on the bed still in her day clothes. He would tuck her in and think of how much she did for him.

In the early morning, she would hand him his coffee and his bread, and there was always a set of clothes neatly laid on the bed. There was always some food in the cupboard, and always a little extra money in the jar they hid under their bed. Without Magda, the family would not function.

And Anya, for her part, was excellent. She rarely cried, never complained, and when she got older she helped her mother with the chores, always with a smile on her face.

The train slows until it pulls neatly into the station. Erik's legs are lead, and he tastes something bitter in the back of his throat. He manages to step off before the train continues to somewhere else. Everything has changed. The roads, the buildings, the people… but the forest path, the one he staggered through on that cold, lonely night… It is faded, but visible. He stands at the beginning of the trail with every muscle tensed. Erik squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and turns on his heel. He can't see Anya without bringing her a present first. He needs to find a flower shop.

Finals were coming up. Max started getting terrible migraines, but he had no idea why.

"It's because all you eat is coffee and toast," Magda chided, "And you never sleep."

Anya looked up from her plate, "Papa, do I have to go to school until I'm your age?"

Max smiled, "No, Anya. I just didn't get the chance to when I was younger."

"Because you and mama were punished by bad men."

"Right. But that will never happen to you. I'll never let it happen. Mama will never let it happen. All right?"

Anya nodded and Max turned to Magda.

"I have to tell Nowak I can't work tonight. I have studying."

"I don't like that Nowak. He works you to the bone but pays you next to nothing," Magda shook her head.

"It's a steady job," Max pushed the chair under the table, "And he's given me evenings off before."

"After these exams, you'll get your degree, yes?" Magda finished her bread and stood up.

"Correct," Max put on his coat.

"Then why do you keep working for Nowak?"

"Because it's a steady job with steady income, and it will take a few months for me to get a new job as an engineer. I don't want to ration food and things for a quarter of a year if I someone doesn't hire me quickly."

Anya took the plates and cups from their rickety table.

"Do you want me to go to Pani. Marzena to wash these dishes?"

"Yes, please, Anya."

The seven-year old grinned. Because they had no sink, they needed to wash the few dishes they had at a neighbor's. Marzena Kapavik always gave Anya a treat for working so hard to help her family.

"I have to get to the tracks. Take care of your mama for me, Anya."

"Yes, Papa," Anya lowered the dishes back onto the table and gave her father a hug. Max kissed Magda on the cheek and waved goodbye.

Aron Nowak oversaw the construction of the new railroad track. He was a short man with thinning hair and a face so scrunched and twisted it was like he snacked on lemons. It was no secret how Nowak picked favorites.

Nowak's scowl deepened every time he looked at Max. It deepened further when Max explained how he needed to leave early so he could study for his finals.

"So you want to slip out of work to lounge around and read some books? Why don't you just save yourself the trouble and quit now?"

"Sir, I can work a double shift just after my exams. I need this degree. It's important, and I've worked so hard—"

Nowak stood up, knocking his stool down in the process. Max towered over the man, but Nowak jabbed him in the sternum.

"Eisenhardt, you know what I see in you? A lazy son of a bitch who wants money but doesn't want to get his hands dirty to get it. This is the third time you've asked me for an evening off. See these men?"

Nowak spread his hand around about half a dozen other men.

"See Kowalski? Now he's a hard worker. He doesn't skip his honest job. He's a good man, wi—"

"Sir, I beg of you. This is my last exam. Please…"

"No! You're a dirty, cheating—you're fired, Eisenhardt! There. Now you can go over your books like a queer instead of being an honest man."

"No, please sir! I take it back. I—I can work tonight. Please, I _need_ this job. I need the money for my family, and—"

"See this, Kowalski?"

Kowalski, barely twenty and nearly as tall as Max, straightened and nodded.

"Sad, really," he shook his head, "How he begs for no work but still wants the money. Quite a slimy move, in my opinion, sir."

"Typical Jew," Nowak muttered.

Max's voice hardened, "What?"

Nowak knew well enough to not push on that topic.

"Slimy indeed. Eisenhardt, get your things and get out of my sight."

Max's head was pounding. He could hardly hear anything other than the blood rushing through his ears. He stormed to the spot on the ground where he put his coat.

He snatched it up and slung it over his shoulder. A few of the men were laughing. At _him_. Nowak's puckered face was twisted into a smug sneer. _Typical Jew_ , he said.

The War was over. Nowak shouldn't have said that. Even if the War wasn't over, Max would have killed him for it.

Killed him. Max would kill him. Taking bread out of his family's mouths. He could see Magda's ribs. Anya's bony arms.

Typical Jew.

Max's head buzzed, like static on a radio. He paused and glared at them for a long time, until Kowalski noticed.

"You heard the boss, Eisenhardt. Scram," the boy lazily waved his hand.

Max threw his coat down.

Erik buys some irises and a pink rose at the flower shop. The girl running the register waves him next in line and speaks gibberish before blinking. Erik realizes with a jolt that she asked him if he found everything.

He mumbles a response. Something about yes, thanks, my Polish is rusty, sorry.

He purchases the flowers and ducks out of the shop. The sky is graying. Erik feels a droplet of rain fall on his hand.

Max didn't remember whether the toolbox opened without him touching it or if he did take the lid off by himself. He knew that the crowbar moved on its own. It tore out of the box and swung towards the other men, a thin layer of bluish-purple light pulsating around it.

Max's head screamed. The migraine was worse than ever, but now electricity shot through his body, starting with his head and ending at his fingertips.

He heard the men screaming, and Kowalski flung a rock at him. It makes its mark on Max's face. The crowbar snapped in half and fell to the ground with a small thump.

Nowak was huddled on the ground like a rat cowering in its cage. He staggered up and jerked his shaking hand in Max's direction.

"Th—that man's a monster!"

"Did you see his eyes?" someone asked.

"How about the damn crowbar? It flew!"

Max's head hummed. His veins burned, like they were wires with electricity shooting through them. Max took up his coat and began the journey home – the long way, hopefully his lip would stop bleeding by then. The minutes crawled by as he trudged down the beaten path.

As he pushed one leg in front of the other, a girl gasped and ran away from him. He turned his face upwards and saw Stefan Nowak, his former boss' cousin, standing in the middle of the market and flailing his arms while shouting.

"—and then Aron told me his eyes turned purple, and then he tried to hit Kowalski with a crowbar, but Aron just managed to save the boy with a lucky throw at – there's the man! The monster! Everyone step away from him. Hurry!"

The small crowd panicked. Max shook his head and continued to walk.

"Max! Max!" he faintly heard someone call.

" _MAX_!" the voice tried again. He halted as Magda grabbed his shoulder.

"What's happened? This man says you—"

Max jerked away from his wife, "And you _believe_ him?"

Magda's hand dropped, "No—"

"Where's Anya?"

"Marzena's house, washing dishes."

Then a scrappy man tried to grab Max.

"I say we kill him!" he shouted. Max broke the man's nose with one punch. Magda gasped.

"We need to get Anya and _leave_ ," Max hissed through gritted teeth.

Magda and Max sprinted to their apartment building. Before they turned a corner, they saw a faint glow, and Max's heart dropped.

It is pouring at this point. Erik purchases an umbrella too, and is considering purchasing a rain coat before he shakes his head with a jerk. He knows he's stalling. So he takes a deep breath and makes his way back to the forest path. It's gotten muddy, but Erik continues down the path, the sludge rising to his calves. He puts the flowers beneath his jacket.

Marzena nearly collided with Magda and Max. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she choked out some words.

"I—I sent Anya home."

"You what?"

"I thought Magda would be there. I didn't realize –"

"She's inside?" Magda screamed. Max's wife shoved him and their neighbor aside and sprinted to the house.

"Magda! Don't!" she nearly entered the burning building until a wall collapsed right in front of her. She halted while Max shot after her.

"Stay there. I'll get—"

"Hold it!" a policeman yanked Max's wrist. Max turned and glowered at him.

"My daughter's in there! I have to save her!"

"No! Don't let him! This man is the one who beat Aron Nowak half to death with a crowbar!" someone in the crowd said.

"I never did such a –" the officer smashed Max's head in with his gun. He crumbled to the ground. He heard shouts and the crackling of a fire, and nearly sank into total darkness until the brightest ray of light in his life called for help.

Anya was shrill and nearly nonsensical. Her voice was scratchy, but Max recognized it. He forced himself to get up. Magda was no longer by his side, but people were crowding all around him. He would have been trampled if he didn't get up when he did. The mob pushed Max in all directions. He could see Anya's thin frame nearly falling out of the window.

"Papa!" her screams stabbed his heart, "I'm burning!"

Max heard her shrieks above the shouts of the angry crowd, and above the buzzing in his own head. Fear clenched inside his chest like a vice. For every person he shoved away, ten more crowded in front of him.

"Max! Max, do something! Save her!" Magda shrieked.

The buzzing in his head was deafening. The crowd was getting rougher. Someone was yelling about how he fell. He was getting stepped on. Help. Then nothing.

Anya's shrieks were quieting into hoarse sobs. Max managed a glance up, and his heart sank. Her clothes were mostly gone, revealing charred flesh.

"No! Anya! I'm coming!" Max yelled. The building was crumbling. The crowd was thickening. The policemen were swarming, spit flying out of their screaming mouths.

Max caught a glance of Magda trying to fight her way to their daughter before the crowd pushed them apart again.

"Mama!" Anya's small voice wavered.

All at once, the building collapsed, a policeman shot into the mob, and all the hope Max ever had vanished with his daughter's life. The crowd was rapidly dispersing, a few people clutching the grazes the bullets gave them.

"You! You're coming with us!" Max ignored the officer and stepped to Anya.

The fire was dying. Magda and Marzena appeared beside him.

"Max, I'm so sorry. Magda…" Marzena began.

Max dropped to his knees and saw his daughter. Her skin was charred beyond recognition. He could smell her burnt flesh. Her face was twisted into a permanent expression of fear. Her amber eyes were little gray blobs of steaming tissue.

Magda wept, but Max felt nothing. He heard nothing and saw nothing but his light of hope extinguished. People were running behind them, and then a hand rested on Max's shoulder. He ignored it.

"Eisenhardt," a familiar voice said. Nowak, "I, uh… I ap—apologize. This got out of hand…"

The bastard sniffled. Why was he crying? He didn't get everything he loved torn away from him. _Twice_. Typical Jew, Nowak said. Max would kill him. Max killed him.

He felt something then. He felt a burning rage he never felt, even when his family was shot or when Magda told him of the terrible things the men did to her at the camp. Max could sense Nowak's brain. The synapses pulsing through the three-pound bag of gray flesh. Max made them all stop.

Nowak collapsed, his eyes blank.

"Max! What are you—"

Max trembled, and he felt power coursing through him. He heard screams and that buzzing noise and then silence. Corpses were everywhere. Some were burnt, others had various metal objects sticking out of them, and others died like Nowak did – their synapses simply stopped. Marzena's body was slowly sinking down the pointed tip of a sign for a bakery.

Max's anger diminished until only a cold, hard ball embedded itself into his heart. Magda trembled as he walked past.

"You killed them. You killed them all," she whispered.

"Help me lay our child to rest, wife," Max bowed his head over Anya's mangled body.

"You killed them," Magda's voice rose, "You killed them! All of them! You – you—"

"What?" Max asked.

"You're a monster!" she shrieked. Her voice echoed through the empty town square. Max's throat tightened.

"You don't mean that," he murmured.

"A monster!" Magda's voice cracked. Max looked down at his daughter. He heard footsteps hitting the ground. He didn't need to look to know that Magda was gone. He could no longer sense his wife's brain synapses.

Or Anya's. He collapsed onto his knees, the burning rubble searing through his pants and cutting into his flesh. Anya's body was still hot when he scooped her up and swung her around. He heard her laugh.

Erik does not know how he manages to find the site when the rain flooded the trail. The flowers droop from the rain. She is marked with a large stone, which took him four hours to find and move and stick it in the ground.

"Anya, I haven't seen you in a while," Erik's legs are heavy. The stone does not answer. He puts the flowers at the base of the grave marker.

After Auschwitz, Max Eisenhardt was a shadow of what he once was – what he could have been. When Anya died, Max died with her. That cold hard fist of anger grew as Erik finished school, and as he practiced his powers, and met Xavier, and became Magnus.

Erik looks at the faded picture in his wallet. A picture of Erik and Magda with a very young Anya. The only other copy was with Magda, wherever she was... Erik stays with his child until the rain stops and night falls. His throat burns and his eyes sting. He steps up and brushes the dried mud off his knees.

A monster, she called him. Hopefully she thinks better of him now. He's done terrible things, but he's changed.

If he hadn't, Cyclops would not have let him teach teenagers mathematics at the Academy.

Erik boards the train.


End file.
